Just figured this out. Here's my story.

[Guest guest]

Hi all.

So I just found out about my mom's BPD this summer. Apparently my dad has long

suspected she has BPD, but she always quit counseling before a real diagnosis

could be made.

This summer, my first summer at home since leaving for college, she told me " I'm

leaving. Soon. " She said there was someone else, that she would always love my

dad, etc. She told me she would be leaving that Friday. I was the only one who

knew. I held her while she cried and she said " Oh God, I never thought I'd be

having this conversation with my baby... " She cried, and I comforted her, and

waited for her to calm down. She asked me if I would visit her when she moved

across the country to live with her new man. My first instinct was to comfort

her and assure her that of course I would, but I said I have school, and she

said there are schools out there. Things went on like that.

The next four days were hell. By day, while my dad was at work, she made her

preparations. At night when he'd come home, I'd be blank with terror because I

knew what was coming but couldn't say anything. Originally she told me she would

confront my dad on Friday after work, and that I probably shouldn't be in the

house. I agreed, since I figured they would want a private talk. Friday morning,

however, I figured out she intended just to bolt, leaving only a note for my

father. The night before, I held her again on the couch while she cried (after

dad went to bed.) She asked me if I would come with her, but I knew that wasn't

how the story was supposed to go--she was just supposed to be altruistic enough

to invite me. On Friday she spent the day packing, asking me to help her carry

things downstairs. I moved about three bags but the stress of HELPING her do

this was making my stomach clench, and I finally told her " I can't help you any

more. I'm going to pick up the house. " She readily agreed, then proceeded to

huff and puff dramatically as she carried things downstairs. After she left was

the worst. I was alone in the apartment, trying to do damage control. I cleaned

(because that always seemed to calm mom down,) and I hid my dad's favorite glass

mug (because mom suggested he may go into a rage, and I didn't want him to break

his favorite mug,) and I hid sharps (because that was the route my sister

usually took.) But I had no idea what to expect from my dad. I had thought he

would just be quiet and sad, but as she was leaving my mom kept saying how she

wouldn't stay here if it was her--she would stay at a friend's house until he

had time to 'cool-off.' I was frantic with stress, trying to perfect the house,

trying to decide where to go, what to do. I left the house briefly, then came

back. My sister called me. My mother had left our house to drive to where my

sister lived to tell her in person. Sister figured it out before she got there,

and told her to turn around because she didn't want to see her. Sister then

called me. We had a rare moment of Sister bonding. I told her I didn't know if I

should stay or go, what would be best for dad. Because if he wants to be alone,

I don't want to bother him, but if he doesn't want to be alone, I can't leave

him. She told me to be selfish: what did I want? I stayed, and he didn't come

home in a rage, just tired and sad and how I thought he'd be. We were sad

together and it was better.

There's a lot more to the story. One of the most relevant bits of recent

information is that my mom's bf left her (to return to his wife and kids.) So

now she's begging my dad to let her come back.

This isn't the first time she's done things like this. It's just the first time

it was dramatic enough and I was included directly enough for me to finally snap

and see what she's been doing my entire life. Also in further discussions with

my dad, he finally revealed his suspicion of her BPD.

I'm not talking to her right now (it's been just under 3 months since she sent

me a message detailing how she was so upset her BF dumped her that she cut and

cut and cut. The message was lovingly detailed. After that I told her not to

contact me before Thanksgiving.) What I'm trying to do right now is focus on me.

I don't want to grow up maintaining the ridiculous fears and coping mechanisms I

had to learn to use around her. I'm working to figure out how much of my fears

and insecurities are really mine, and which ones are mostly shaped by her

attitudes. For instance. I feel like most conversations are a script, and I know

what I'm " supposed to " say, regardless of anything else. I feel responsible for

'allowing' my mother to treat me the way she has for so long. I realize that

every time I'm with people, I have this sense of holding my breath. I want them

to say or do something so I know how I'm supposed to be reacting. I'm dating

someone long distance(a very sweet, very normal guy and my most serious

relationship thus far,) but I'm terrified that if I do what I want, I am somehow

denying him of what he wants, or betraying him in some way.

A lot of thoughts are surfacing, but I'm starting to get a little distance from

them and work on brushing them away. Because these aren't my fears. If I can

just look past the ridiculous things my thoughts say sometimes, I'm a very calm,

laid back, pretty confident person. But it feels like there is this film of

badness between me and 'my thoughts.' But I'm in here. Just kind of buried.

I guess what I'd like from you guys is advice on moving on. I request no

comments on my not speaking to my mother, because while that may not be

permanent, it is something I need and am unwavering on for now. I'm working very

hard to stay in the present moment, not feeling like I have to stay emotionally

and mentally four steps ahead to stave off impending disaster. And I guess I

just need some support in that. I just transferred to a new school, so I don't

have a ton of close friends yet, and I've always had a little trouble finding

close friends. Had a few friends pulled out of my life suddenly when I was

younger and I think I'm still fighting some feelings of abandonment there.

Anyway. I'm really happy this place exists. Reading over some people's stories,

I feel a little less lonely.